


tumblr prompts

by zimmerbittle (punkrockinchairs)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:12:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4590831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockinchairs/pseuds/zimmerbittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of oneshots from that tumblr prompt post "things you said..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	tumblr prompts

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: 11 Zimbits But can you make it have a happy ending? I'm a sucker for happy endings! :)
> 
> oh man ofc i'm a sucker for happy endings too like don't even worry
> 
> (i'm lying i love angst too but. i am /also/ a sucker for happy endings)
> 
> this went in a direction i wasn't exactly expecting? but i hope you like it!!

11\. things you said when you were drunk (jack/bitty)

–

Eric has been having an amazing 48 hours. Yesterday, he'd gotten an assist in the first game of the season and mobbed by overjoyed hockey bros; and Jack’s gobsmacked expression had been something he'd wanted a picture of to keep forever.

And then tonight, at the first kegster of the season, he’d been the one to do the first kegstand. Which had, uh— _affected_ him. More than he'd expected it to. By a little. And then Shitty had kept handing him red Solo cups filled with God-knows-what that at first had tasted pretty gross, although Eric was starting to grow to appreciate the concoctions as the night wore on.

But anyway, Eric was just to the right of buzzed—if levels of intoxication were measured on a line of sober-tipsy-buzzed-drunk-blacked out—and starting to confuse himself with his own metaphors, and a phrase from earlier that night kept floating to the forefront of his brain and he couldn’t say _why_ it was bothering him so much, only that it _was_ , and that was why he found himself ducking under the barrier constructed of caution tape Shitty had found somewhere and heading up the stairs to look for Jack.

Not. Not because the thought of Jack being—um, _intimate_ with someone bothered him or made his stomach do weird flip-flops, just. Because he wanted to make sure there was no one else up here that wasn't supposed to be. Which was anyone who wasn't on the team, which _technically did include_ so-called “puck bunnies,” Zimmermann or otherwise.

Hm. He was maybe further along towards drunk than he'd thought. _Maybe_.

“Bittle?”

Eric stifled a squeak and spun on his heel to come face-to-face with, of course, Jack Zimmermann. Who… definitely didn't _look_ as though he'd been hooking up with anyone in the last few minutes.

“Oh. I, uh. Hi. Jack. Er—captain?” Eric stammered. “I—uhm. I was just? Looking for…. Um.”

Jack looked at him blankly, ever-present frown deepening slightly; though whether that was because of anger or confusion Eric wasn't sure. He smiled awkwardly and gave a little wave, making as if to turn around, sure he was blushing wildly, but Jack stopped him with a hand to his arm.

“Bittle… how drunk _are_ you, eh?”

Eric bristled, flushing even darker. “I will have you know that I am just to the right of buzzed, Mr. Zimmermann, and perfectly capable of taking care of myself. So, thank you, but I am going to go back downstairs now and enjoy this party. With people who actually like to be around me,” he said meanly. And stuck out his tongue, too, for good measure.

“Bittle—”

The word had hardly left Jack’s mouth when Eric became aware that the floor beneath his right foot was incredibly slippery. And Eric became aware that he was falling. And Eric could feel that his eyebrows were raised nearly into his hairline, mouth open in a surprised _O_ , and all he could think was, _Well this is embarrassing_.

Then suddenly Jack was there, a solid mass behind him, catching Eric under his armpits and pulling him back from the gross section of the floor. Eric stumbled back and somehow got himself turned around in the process, ending up pressed along Jack’s front with the much taller man’s face mere inches away.

“Oh, my,” Eric said softly, “if those aren't the prettiest eyes east of the Mississippi….”

He saw Jack’s ~~beautiful~~ eyes start to widen and Eric flushed from the top of his head to his feet. And then he groaned, the adrenaline from his almost-wipeout leaving as quickly as it had come, and flopped his suddenly aching head onto Jack’s chest. He felt one of Jack’s arms slowly come around his ribs and turn his body so he was beside Eric.

“C’mon, Bittle. Let’s get you to a bed,” he said. Eric just groaned again in response, the sound muffled against Jack’s unfairly impressive pectoral muscles.

As Jack led the smaller man towards his room, Eric informed him in no uncertain terms that his entire physique was entirely unfair, _especially_ his ass, and that Jack needed to give Eric’s poor heart a break or he'd have a heart attack and then he'd “be kicked off the team for _sure_ , Jack.”

A small smile curved across the captain’s lips as he deposited the blonde onto his bed, and stayed there as he pulled off the other boy’s shoes, and stayed there still when he pulled the sheet up over Eric’s small frame.

When he went across the hall to ask Johnson if he could crash in his room, he found a note on the door that simply read, _“My bed’s yours, bro. Gotta advance the love story somehow. Sleep tight.”_

–

The next morning found Eric blushing as he quietly crept out of Jack’s room and down the stairs and out of the Haus. He passed Johnson on the path to his dorm and waved in greeting.

“Morning, Bits,” the goalie smiled as they passed one another. Walking backwards, he said, “It’s nice to have a friend like that who’d do anything for you, huh?”

And no matter what anyone thought Eric did _not_ run back to his dorm room after that, he just. Power walked. Very very quickly.

And if he smiled, small and bashful, the second his back was pressed to the dorm room door closed behind him, well. That’s nobody’s business but his own and Señor Bunny’s.

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote like half of this while listening to the disney descendants soundtrack?? i can't believe i'm such garbage lmao. but uh speaking of which who wants to talk abt how hard ''rotten to the core'' goes?? like dAMN
> 
> anyway i wrote the other half to melanie martinez so at least i'm not /complete/ garbage.
> 
> my [check please tumblr](http://www.zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/)
> 
> (my [main tumblr](http://www.punkrockinchairs.tumblr.com/), if ur so inclined)


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